


Five Times Phil Coulson Unwillingly Spent a Night With an Avenger, and The One Time He Didn't

by soniclipstick (veriscence)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5 + 1 Things, 5 Things, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Phil is sort of in denial, Sleepy Cuddles, sort of totally that is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-01-08
Packaged: 2018-01-08 00:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veriscence/pseuds/soniclipstick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Natasha is testing, Tony is a pain in the butt as usual, Phil is not a creepy stalker, and a drunk Thor isn't really what you might expect. </p><p>Oh, don't forget the Clint/Coulson. That's rather important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Natasha Romanoff

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my 5+1 that my dear friend Lynn is betaing as a one time deal, because she's actually in college studying literature and has things to do. I have things to do as well, like a 20 000 word essay on renewable energy that's due tomorrow; so naturally, I'm writing C/C. I am done with the whole thing by the way, I just need to put some final touches before posting it, that's all! 
> 
> Hope you like!

# 1\. Natasha Romanoff

It’s been a year after Natasha’s’ recruitment into SHIELD and two weeks into Clint’s’ first solo mission since then. And while Phil is relatively sure that Natasha trusts Clint by now, he isn’t so quick to assume that that trust has been extended to him as well. So yes, it’s a bit of a surprise to come home after a late night at the Hub to find her wrapped up in his blankets, fast asleep. Or at least playing fast asleep because there is no way in hell that the Black Widow missed Phil entering his apartment. The key word here is _his_. 

In the back of his mind, he’s rather impressed that she’s gotten past his security systems without setting anything off, but he’s had a shitty day and he just wants to sleep in his own bed. Instead of being absolutely furious, he settles on just peeved. He walks into his walk-in closet, ignoring her while changing into an old ragged t-shirt and sweatpants before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then ease his bladder. When he heads back into his bedroom (again, emphasis on _his_ ), she’s still sprawled all over his bed so he grabs his reading glasses and an ancient, battered copy of the Lord of the Rings that had belonged to his father, and continues to his guest room, shutting his bedroom door with a little bit more force than may have been necessary. He flicks on the bedside lamp, and then turns off the ceiling lights, settling into the queen-size bed, the old quilted blanket (his mothers’) pulled up to his waist, back braced on the headboard. 

It had been a lousy, paper-work filled day, stuck in four different meetings with Nick Fury and various representatives of the World Security Council. If he’s completely honest with himself, he has had less stress out on the field with a couple of bullets indented inside of vital parts of his body. Sometimes, he hates being a senior agent.

It’s 2 am and he is far too buzzed from doing nothing that he knows he won’t sleep, so he welcomes the all-too-familiar halls of Rivendell. He hopes Natasha is getting some sleep, because Phil may be irritated, but he isn’t evil (yet, according to Jasper), and he wants his assets to get enough sleep. Natasha may be a super spy but he’s Phil Coulson and Phil Coulson always knows what’s going on with his agents. Also, it isn’t stalking if it’s part of his job. He was the one who assigned both Clint and Natasha’s quarters in the Hub, and he is well aware of the fact that Natasha’s bed only gets used around 4 out of 7 times a week. He also knows that anything that can get Clint to sleep in his bed and not in the vents can be defined as a good thing. 

Which is why, even though he must finally admit that there are probably prisons in India with beds better than his guest bed, though he’ll die before he admits that to his little sister (If she wants to drop by unexpectedly and eat all his food, she can get used to sleeping on a lumpy bed); he’s secretly hopeful that Natasha can finally get some sleep. Even if he’s going to wake up tomorrow with the backache from hell. He tries to focus on middle earth but he’s read through this book so many times that he’s now capable of multitasking while reading this. 

Soon, the alarm clock glares out 3:30 am and he knows he should TRY to get some sleep. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust Natasha. It’s hard not to when she’s saved him life countless times over the last year, however, she’s a new variable in his apartment and he’s not really sure what to make of it just yet. However, it is one thing for the junior agents to be terrified of his reputation, but it’s another to have to inflict that terror upon them when they haven’t deserved it. He sticks his Captain America bookmark back in place (it was handmade by his niece and he had never been a prouder uncle than when he’d received it) and places the tattered book on his bedside table. He switches the lamp off and turns around on the bed until he’s lying on his side. He has his work phone set on vibrate in his pocket, but he takes it out and checks his e-mails quickly for any urgent memos, and finding none, puts it back in his pocket. He’ll awaken if it vibrates. 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes up the exact moment his door knob starts to turn. After a fraction of a moments panic, he remembers and recognition flares in his mind. He lets her climb in, eyes kept closed until she’s settled on the other side of the bed. A quick glance at the digital alarm clock tells him that he’s only been asleep for a half hour. He groans to himself and tries to return to sleep.

Only, just as he reaches that dividing space between wakefulness and slumber, he is once again brought wide awake by breasts pressing into his back. Phil cringes inwardly, but forces his well-trained body not to react. Then the puzzle comes together and he understands. This is a test; he knows that Natasha is waiting for him to push back. This isn’t Natasha showing her trust; this is her determining whether she can give it to him. His heart aches just a bit at what her earlier life must have been like that she could ever think that Phil would take advantage of her like this. But he’s also glad that they’ve reached this breaking point in their relationship, and that he’s about to earn her trust. He just wishes she would find another way to do this because he really misses his own bed.

He’s expecting the hand that lands on his hip and moves towards his genitals. 

“Haven’t you heard of keeping your hands to yourself, Agent Romanoff?” He grabs her by the wrist just before she palms his cock and gently places them in the small space on the bed between them. “If you wake me up again, I won’t be held responsible for the level 2 mission in Serbia that will be handed to you tomorrow morning”

The breasts are replaced by kneecaps at his buttocks and the top of Natasha’s head finds a hiding spot in the small of his back. 

They go back to sleep. 

She does wake him with the same shtick a second, and even a third time around, and Phil isn’t held responsible for the level 1 mission to South Africa, and two weeks of sensitivity training she’s handed the next day.

By the third time that she’s found herself in his bed, they both sleep through the night with no interruptions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, all other times, they spent in Phil's own bed, for which his poor back is very thankful:D
> 
> Emm, I'm going to try and post once a day, like I said, it's complete, I just need to do some last minute tweaking:D nor twerking, I had to backspace there for a second, because... no I don't need to do any last minute twerking.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Tony Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Tony is, as usual, a pain in the ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a big thanks to Lynn for a impromptu beta job. I love you!
> 
> Hope you enjoy:)

#  2\. Tony Stark 

Phil’s simultaneously watching and being Supernanny while one palladium poisoned Tony Stark muddles through his fathers’ handiwork. The new StarkPad is at his side, and Phil’s checking e-mails (two urgent ones from Nick, one invite from Melinda for the monthly poker game, and thirteen, yes thirteen e-mails from Clint complaining about how boring his vacation which is starting in 2 days is going to be), when he hears the sound of something (or one) collapsing. He finds himself at record speed back in the workshop, finding Stark lying on the floor, unconscious. A quick check of his vitals reassures him that Stark is perfectly healthy, aside from impending death that is, and had simply passed out from exhaustion.

Despite his earlier words, Phil actually would mind if Stark ends up drooling into the carpet because he is a good man. Actually, since he wouldn’t have minded if he had been the reason for the current predicament that this genius engineer has found himself in, Phil supposes he’s just an alright man. He sneaks one arm under Stark’s armpit and the other he uses to grip the younger man by the forearm. Stark is babbling now - the drooling somehow unfortunately getting worse -because Goddammit that was one of this favourite ties and now it’s covered in Stark slobber and snot- but he is no actual use in terms of mobilization. 

Against all odds, the duo makes it around something that looks suspiciously like Captain America’s shield and up the stairs into the master bedroom. Stark breath is atrocious, his hands are listless and he has no sense of personal space, even (or especially) like this. Also, he keeps mumbling something under his breath. Phil manages to get him horizontal and takes his shoes off, but when he tries to leave, Tony sits up straight and tries to get out of bed. 

“Mr. Stark, you’re clearly sleep-deprived. Please refrain from getting out of bed. Do I really need to remind you about the existence of my taser?” Phil pushes him back down onto the bed but Tony pushes back. It’s rather pathetic because Stark is more or less swatting at him than actually pushing back. 

“Stop nannying me, Coulson, I have more important things to do that sleep, you know? I can’t believe this is where my tax money is going.” 

Phil pulls out his taser. 

Stark flops back into bed. “Jesus fucking... you really weren’t kidding? No but seriously, through me a bone here Agent, let me get back to work so you can go back to being super spy instead of Supernanny”

“I don’t look forward to carrying you up again when you collapse. Good night, Mr. Stark. I don’t think I need to remind you of the consequences of leaving this room before you get at least 5 hours of sleep.” He walks out of the room, closes the door and heads back down to the living room, where commercials are now playing on the television. 

Half an hour and two temper tantrums later, he hears rustling and falling. He rolls his eyes and walks back up the stairs. “Mr. Stark-”, except Stark is on the ground, clutching his chest and that’s when he realizes that the core must have burnt out again. He leans down and grabs Stark by the shoulder, “Mr. Stark, everything is going to be ok, trying to breathe. JARVIS, can you assist me in replacing the core with a fresh one? It’s burnt out”

JARVIS directs him to the suitcase with the fresh cores in the lab, and Phil grabs the case before running back up the stairs. He pulls out the arc reactor with a steady hand while the other goes around the younger man, replacing the bloody core with a fresh one. Stark has passed out by now, but fingers to his wrist and ear to his nose confirm than his pulse is stabilizing and he is indeed breathing. 

Phil grabs Stark by the legs and lifts them up, holding them there to let the blood rush to his head. “Mr. Stark, can you hear me?” No luck. He drags him around until he can keep the legs elevated on the bedside and kneels down next to the scientist, putting pressure on the veins below his ears using his fingers. 

Stark’s eyes are suddenly wide open and he takes a deep breath. “Oh fuck.” 

“Mr. Stark, I replaced your arc reactor core, you’re going to be ok.”

“Funny. Last I checked, I was dying”

“Last I checked, you were a genius, but we can all be wrong. Back to bed, let’s go.”

"I would simply like to point out that I completely resent that statement. Completely."

Tony Stark pulls his legs away from the bedside and start pushing himself up quickly. A firm hand pushes him right back down. “You just blacked out, maybe take it a bit slowly, Mr. Stark”

“Oh Agent Coulson, now I’m imagining you in a skimpy nurses outfit” Stark winks at him. Phil can’t help but roll his eyes. 

“I’m going to pretend I never heard that, and go get you a glass of water. Stay on the ground for now. JARVIS, please alert me if Mr. Stark even moves an inch.”

“Certainly, Agent Coulson”

“Dammit JARVIS, you traitor. It’s ok. I forgive you. Nurse Coulson is irresistible, isn’t he? I mean look at those-” And Phil zones him out as he runs down to get a glass of water and some pretzels. He is halfway up the stairs when he detours back to the living room to turn off the television and grab his StarkPad. By the time he’s returned, the billionaire is lying on the ground, talking to JARVIS about the relative attractiveness of nurse outfits vs. maid outfits.” Phil has a headache coming along. It’ll be an easy gig, Nick said. No actual work involved. He deserves at least a week of vacation for this. Paid. In Tahiti. 

Stark drinks the water and eats the pretzels that Phil hands over. 

“See, I’m being a good boy, can I go back to the playground now please? I promise to play nice, mommy.”

“It’s bed time, dear.”

“Wait, was that a joke? Oh my God, that was a joke. I have died and gone to a hell where I have to live with you, haven’t I?”

Phil’s face is bland. “I think we’ve had enough fun for today, don’t you?” Stark grins, and lets himself be manhandled into bed. Phil then turns off the lights, and settles into the nearby recliner. 

“Are you kidding me? Is this supposed to be funny? You know this is creepy right? A vashta nerada level of creepy?”

“I was downstairs for half an hour before I had to run up again. I have work to do, and this is more convenient for me. Deal with it. Or don’t. And I would have thought the situation was better likened to Weeping Angels to be honest”

“And what, not blink? Come on, how can I sleep if I’m not allowed to blink?”

“No more talking now, it’s time for the kids to go to sleep and the grownups to work” 

“But nurse!” 

Phil pulls out his taser. 

Tony Stark turns around and goes to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I love that taser....  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> PS- Cookies for the ones who got the Firefly reference!


	3. Captain Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I watched you while you were sleeping” sounds so much creepier that it actually was, but Nick is never going to let him live it down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my girl Lynn for betaing again... I love you more than Phil Coulson loves Hawkeye!

#  3\. Steve Rogers 

“I watched you while you were sleeping” sounds so much creepier that it actually was, but Nick is never going to let him live that down. When Nick had called him on his day off to tell him that the Canadians had found Captain America, Phil had grabbed his go bag from his closet and left the apartment as fast as humanly possible. No one was to know that he had made U-turn in Lola ten minutes later to come home and turn off his stove. That never happened. He makes it to the harbor in record time and the Helicarrier is go. 

A couple of hours and a briefing later, there he is in Medical with one Steve Rogers, albeit in a medically induced coma until they could get him to a safe house. There had been talk of placing him in a cryogenic chamber but they’d been shot down almost immediately. Phil was glad he wasn’t the only one against that idea. It was bad enough that he was still being kept asleep, but there is no way Phil will allow him to be frozen again, not under his authority. Captain Rogers has been in the cold for long enough. 

The squints are all over his blood work, but everything seems to be fine. That is, except for scientists themselves, who look like they’re going to have a collective heart attack from all the excitement. There's an English girl, a baby agent... Simmons (he's not so sure, there are so many new recruits, these days) who can't stop jumping up and down. Secretly, Phil would be doing the same thing, except he's 47 and has a reputation he needs to uphold. If he ever needs to bring together a team of scientists, and not strike teams or infiltration teams, he's going to have her on that team. Then again, he's not sure he can get her without that constant Scottish shadow of hers. He doesn't exactly have anything against Fitz, he just feels uneasy that some fresh out of the academy assistant is handling Captain America's shield. (He isn't jealous, no way). That's enough dreaming about new teams, it's not like it's ever going to be a possible since Phil already has the best 3-man strike team in the world, and if the avenger initiative manages to work out, he'll have a whole new headache to deal with. Then again, if he's lucky enough, Captain Rogers would be on the team and that would make all the Stark-hassling worth it. 

Rogers seems to be physically perfectly healthy. Mentally, Phil isn’t sure if he even wants to know. Who knows what being asleep for 70 years would do to a man? Phil knows that Steve Rogers and the Captain America of comic books aren’t the one and the same, but he’s also read every mission report from Captain Rogers during WWII as soon as he had the clearance level, and he knows that Captain Rogers was (is) an even greater man than any comic book hero. Phil has faith that things are going to be ok. Moreover, Phil has this feeling that with all the weird things happening around the world, they’re going to need Captain America to step up again. 

However, that being said, he doesn’t really know why he’s still here. According to the sitrep he just received from Agent Preston, there is a situation developing in New York where Romanoff and Preston are stationed at the moment, and SHIELD could use all of Strike Team Delta in Harlem right about now. 

Instead, he’s on babysitting duty, and Barton is teaching (read: putting the fear of God into) baby agents in the Helicarrier for another week. Yeah well, Barton should be thankful; stealing the Directors eye patch could have potentially earned him worse. But then everyone has a soft spot for the sniper, even when he’s a cocky bastard. Phil has seen the free cookies Maria saves for Barton during bake sale days, and he knows about that time Jasper let him go unpunished for shooting an arrow into another asset (In Barton's defense, he'd deserved it. Phil can't be bothered to find out more, he has enough Clint Barton-related headaches as is). 

But the point is, in case someone missed it, Phil is once again, stuck on babysitting duty. Again. He knows Nick thinks he’s doing Phil a favour, and it is Phil’s greatest hero in the world. But Rogers is asleep, and there is only so much staring in awe that can actually happen. So it doesn’t necessarily have to be him, Jasper and Melinda on constant supervision in case Rogers wakes up and wreaks havoc on medical. Because let’s face it, who knows how medication works against the super serum. But instead of getting some trained specialists to keep an eye on him, it becomes Phil’s job. Somehow, everything in this damned organization ends up being Phil’s job. He doesn’t like it. Especially because he keeps getting impromptu babysitting jobs, which makes it impossible to get through the million things he’s actually supposed to be doing. 

He loves Captain America, don’t get him wrong. Phil just wishes that he had better timing. This would have been the perfect job a year ago when Stark was kidnapped. He wouldn't have minded being stuck in here if that meant he had never gotten to meet Tony Stark. 

He hears the beeping of security scanners and then Jasper is in the room holding a glorious cup of fresh coffee and by the smell of it, a tuna sandwich. “If that’s not for me, I’m going to have to take back the title of best friend from you” 

Sitwell smiles and hands over the goods. “Guess I’m safe for now, though full disclosure, it wasn’t my idea, so go thank Barton” Of course it was, the sniper himself will forget to eat for days on end, but he won't forget to make sure that Phil is well fed. He doesn’t know what to make of this particular development, and what it means. So he focuses on Jasper. All of a sudden, he’s hit with a memory of Jasper as a new recruit, 24, skinny and ready to handle anything. Nowadays, he’s always just one hundred percent tired of everyone and their bullshit. Phil supposes that’s what SHIELD does to you. He isn’t skinny anymore, which has been a relief, because Phil remembers being 32 and worrying non-stop about the kid who looked far too much like a pre-serum Steve Rogers. Jasper looks exhausted, but then, he only completed his 12 hour shift 5 hours ago.

“You should get some sleep,” Phil says as Jasper plops down on the chair beside him, pulling out a StarkPad.

“I did. It got boring after awhile. Besides, Mel’s taking over after you anyway, so it’s fine. Wanna rerun some mission strategy with me for a while?” 

“I thought Hand was in charge for next week” He trusts that Victoria Hand will do the job, and he hates it when people try to run mission strategy for him, so he doesn't like to impose on others. 

“So? She isn’t going to say no to help from you, trust me, I asked. Considering that she’s additionally gotten your workload on her plate at the moment, she'll probably send you a fruit basket or something. Besides, would you rather sit and stare at all the memos that you’re forwarding to her or do something useful for a change.”

This is why Jasper is his best friend. “Let’s start with Cambodia”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the hardest part to write... I think mainly because nothing actually happened, it's just 1200 words of internal monologue plus Jasper... oh well... hope you liked it, thanks for reading!
> 
> M


	4. Bruce Banner, or more accurately, the Other Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So thanks again to the lovely Lynn for betaing.

#  4\. Bruce Banner, or more accurately, the Other Guy 

His “miraculous” (read: SHIELD still has no idea how the Asgardians brought him back)- return to the plane of the living seem to have resulted in some _interesting_ developments, to say the least. For example, the invitation from Tony Stark turned order from Nick Fury to move to the Avengers Tower. It’s the first night after his move to Avengers Tower, complete with his very own apartment and everything. There's a fully stocked kitchen, 2 bedrooms, an office, a full dinning room and a living room. Unfortunately, Phil is nowhere near done moving in. There are at least 17 boxes, and that's just counting the living room. He blames the Doombots. The whole team was exhausted, barring Hulk, which is only due to being caught unawares by a stray tranquilizer (Phil wants to shoot Ross and his posse in the head). He was meant to be asleep in R &D at the moment. The key word here is _meant_. 

Phil may have forgotten to mention that the balcony is a lovely bonus, except for the fact that there is one not-so-angry green monster outside of it, knocking on the door with one giant green finger, as if afraid to shatter it. 

This is new. 

He opens the doors, both of them, to let in the Other Guy, who stares at him with a look on his face that could mean he’s getting ready to make that death certificate accurate or that he’s very confused. Phil thinks he must be if he isn’t smashing at the moment.

“Buddy said you left him.” 

Phil has no idea what in the world is happening. But Phil has faced down the god of thunder in New Mexico, come home to find Jasper asleep on his coffee table covered in green slime, and he’s also died and come back to life, so he's perfected the -you can't faze me I am Agent Phil Coulson with SHIELD- look by now. Nevertheless, he hopes no damage has been done so far. Doesn’t Stark have contingency plans for when the Other Guy did crap like this? But of course he doesn’t, he’s Tony Stark, he doesn’t know the meaning of the word contingency. This is exactly why he wasn’t keen on moving in. Phil Coulson needs his home to be free of unusual events, but clearly, he is learning that he should probably just give up on that far-flung dream. So he crosses his arms across his chests and asks, “Buddy?” 

“Buddy is my friend. Buddy likes Dog Cops.” Ah. Barton.

“Hawkeye”

“Yes. Buddy. Buddy lies?”

“No, Hulk. He didn’t lie. He didn’t know. He thought I was gone forever, but I came back”

“Buddy was sad” Damn. That shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. “You stay now?”

“For now, yeah”

“If you make Buddy cry again, Hulk smash”, yeah, well Phil wants said Hulk smash so he doesn't have to keep living in a frat house with monsters. 

“I’ll try my best not to” He feels like he’s getting the shovel talk, which is ridiculous because it’s not like they were ever involved or anything. Clint is just the asset turned colleague turned friend who helps him with physiotherapy and buys him sandwiches. And brings him his morning coffee. But here he is, getting threatened by the Hulk on behalf of Clint.

“You better mean it”

“Hulk, we haven’t met before, so first of all, my name is Phil Coulson, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to not hurt your Buddy like that again, and if I do, Hulk can smash me all he wants, do we have a deal?”

“Deal.” They just stare at each other for a while; Phil, leaning on his wardrobe and Hulk, standing in front of the balcony doors. “Hulk sleepy.” he grunts before lying on the marble floor and closing his eyes, his body slowly shrinking and morphing into that of an unconscious Bruce Banner. Phil can’t kneel down, his chest is far too sore to put that sort of pressure on it, so there really is nothing he can do, and he doesn’t really want to bother the others, it’s long past midnight. So he grabs his blanket and covers the physicist with it, and throws a pillow near his head. Phil hopes that he’ll wake up sometime and actually use the pillow, because he genuinely doesn’t have the energy to bend down and push that pillow under his head. Oh well. 

He closes the balcony doors and gets into bed. “JARVIS, could you please dim the lights? Thank you.” Phil can’t really sleep with someone who is practically a stranger in his room, so he runs infiltration strategies for an upcoming mission for Jasper in his head. He doesn’t need it, he trusts Jasper. But this is Strike Team Delta’s first foray without him, and he knows they’ll be fine, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he isn’t worried about the op. A couple hours into it, he has his StarkPad in hand, writing up an advisory report for Jasper, when he hears a groan from below. 

“Dr. Banner, there’s no need to panic, everything’s alright.”

“What’s the damage?” The man on the floor asks him with a defeated tone in his voice; as if he’s sick and tired of asking what he’s done this time. 

“None, to my knowledge. JARVIS?” 

“None at all, Dr. Banner. You were hit by a tranquilizer, I apologize, but actions will be taken against General Ross. It seems you climbed over here from R&D.” 

The look on Banners’ face is a mixture of relief and confusion. Then panic. “Clint. I was with Clint! Or...I think the Other Guy was? Is he alright? Oh God-” 

Phil thinks that the scientist is attempting to stand up, but the only evidence is that of shaking thighs, not ready to handle the weight of his body. "Dr. Banner, Clint was with you hours ago. He is more than fine". But that doesn't seem to be calming the nuclear physicist. If anything had happened, JARVIS would have notified him by now.Phil sits down on his recliner. 

“JARVIS, where is Agent Barton at the moment?” Phil asks hoping a visual might calm him down, “could I get a video feed, please?” 

“Agent Barton is asleep at the moment, and sir would not approve of invading his privacy like this”

“JARVIS,” Phil replied, “this is not about invading his privacy, but about reassuring the doctor that he’s safe and unharmed. You are more than welcome to let Mr. Stark know why I did so tomorrow morning. The video feed. Please.”

The wall opposite the bed lights up, and within a few seconds, the image of Barton and Romanoff in bed is shown, in a position he is more and more familiar with, Romanoff curled up behind Barton, knees at his buttocks, and face snuggled into his back. Or at least, until a moment later, when the red-haired woman opens her eyes, climbs swiftly out of bed and walks towards the camera. “I thought we agreed this was for emergencies only, Tony.” She talks to the camera, expression dead cold. “Go away”

JARVIS turns off the live stream. Phil turns and looks at Banner, who looks much relieved, though still perplexed. He as usual, has no idea what transpired between Phil and the other guy, for which Phil at all at once glad and apologetic for. Phil likes Bruce Banner, he’s a nice guy and anyone who can keep up with Stark gets a gold star in his books. The man is trying to stand up again, “But then, why I am... maybe I should just get going.” His knees are wobbling and Phil knows there is no way he’s making it back to his own floor, let alone his bedroom. 

“Dr. Banner, you're exhausted. I think that discussion is better left to after you get some sleep. I would love to help you back down to your room but my body tends to disagree with me.” Phil isn’t going to get any sleep with this man in his room, but he likes Banner enough that he could spend the night in the same bed with him, especially since there would probably be an entire foot of space between the two of them. “I have this gigantic bed due to Stark's inability to be anything but over the top, and I won’t mind sharing it as long as you don’t mind the light of the tablet.”

Banner must be too exhausted to argue because he sighs, mumbles thank you, and makes it the two steps over to the side of the bed Coulson isn’t on before collapsing on it. 

Phil quickly sends off an e-mail to Tony explaining the situation, and then to Natasha, to apologize and to advice not blaming Tony for something he didn’t actually do, for once. Phil then sends off a third e-mail to Banner with an explanation. That conversation is better left to be had per e-mail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you liked it. So this is the one I'm most unsure about... constructive criticism would be appreciated! Once again, thanks for reading!


	5. Thor Odinson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't what he was expecting of a completely drunk Thor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thanks to my beta the lovely lovely Lynn.

#  5\. Thor Odinson 

Six out of seven days, Phil loves his job. Today is not one of those days. 

Phil supposes that it really would have to be at something the size of Stark’s bachelor party for an Asgardian demi-god to get smashed out of his mind. He guesses he should just be really thankful that a completely drunk Thor is a Thor who thinks that Midgard is made of glass and proceeds to treat everything like it. Because a Thor who can’t remember his strength is not something the Earth needs to see; and it probably wouldn't survive it. Especially since the rest of the Avengers (bar Natasha, who is having quiet drinks with Pepper and Jane in New York) are currently rather incapable of fighting him anyway. Phil blames Tony. 

He did have the foresight to ask the X-men and Fantastic Four to keep an eye on things for the night, though. This isn’t the first Avengers party he’s been to; after all, he lives with Tony Stark, and Tony Stark loves parties. So he’s used to Natasha and Clint playing hide and seek; no one really understands the rules so they tend to get left alone. The only thing everyone is sure of is that there are weapons involved. He’s more than used to Tony dancing on the tables and kissing the Avengers, which unfortunately for him includes Phil in Tony’s mind (Phil has to constantly fight the urge to wipe his face with wet wipes). He's never worried about Bruce, who always has virgin pina colada, and He’s glad for Steve, who will have a couple of drinks for the sake of it, and then walk around with half a glass of wine so no one gives him refills, and he’s more than a little grateful that Steve can drag Tony away when things start to get a little out of control. He’s used to the boisterous Thor, the one who’s just a bit buzzed and searching for adventure – whether said adventure is found in battling bilgesnipe or zombies in the newest video game that Tony has invented. 

He’s never had to deal with a Thor who is so absolutely drunk that he treats the world like it’s going to break any second.

This brings Phil back to Las Vegas, where Tony had decided to have his bachelor party. In hindsight, he should have advised against Thor bringing mead and other stronger products from Asgard, but he had been too busy looking at security measures for the party to care about what the wine list was. That was mistake numero uno, he supposes. But then, he wasn't in charge of security tonight, that would be Agent Preston, who Phil trusts, because anyone who can deal with Wade Wilson can deal with Tony Stark. Phil thinks that it really isn't his responsibility to assist a 120 kg God of Thunder up to his hotel room. But alas, that's exactly what he's doing. He should be thankful the man is wearing a suit, and not his actual armour. If no, his gravestone would have said, "Death by demi-god. Twice". Ok, maybe it's a bit too soon for death jokes. 

He should have asked for help or left the man downstairs, except for the celebrities who unintentionally keep asking Thor classified questions that he can’t help but answer because he thinks that they are his mothers' prized porcelain dolls and doesn’t want to disappoint them. Also, Phil is in charge of security today, so it’s kind of his job. Also, the other Avengers are immersed in a very serious game of Ligretto (Bruce is winning, and no one wants to argue).

It isn’t even that Thor keeps collapsing on him, then apologizing. His body’s sort of become numb after the third time that happened. It’s the whole – picking him up by the waist and making sure that Thor hasn’t cause irreparable harm- that’s slowing them down. When they finally reach the top of the stairs, Thor sits down (Phil wants to weep. It may have been omitted that Phil has had a couple of drinks by now as well, but only to keep up appearances. Phil is a superspy, after all) and pats the floor beside him and looks up at Phil, so Phil sits down and looks up at Thor. 

“Son of Coul, you are my dear friend, and it pains me that I almost brought great harm upon you.” If Thor himself starts crying, Phil doesn't know what he's going to do. He wishes Jane hadn't decided to spend the evening with Pepper and Natasha. 

“It’s alright Thor, I’ll survive” Phil smiles that half-smile of his, hoping it will placate Thor enough to get back up again. “But I would be happier if you were in your bed by now, what do you say?”

“I do not wish to watch our great shield brother Hawkeye lose his Phil once again.” His Phil. What the hell is that supposed to me? He hadn’t realized that he belonged to Clint now. Ok, that's reassuring. Phil thinks he prefers the other Thor, who wants to hunt down kangaroos in Australia because “they look like worthy opponents, dear Avengers!” But no, he’s stuck with one who is babbling nonsense and refusing to actually be of any assistance whatsoever. Also, Phil is sick and tired of people telling him that dying was a terrible thing to do to his friends. Despite popular belief, he really didn't do it on purpose, you know. But then, Thor is drunk so he lets that slide. 

“Alright, Thor. I know you’re in a sentimental mood, how about we just move that to the bed?” Phil doesn’t know why he’s bothering so much. But then again, Phil is the only one Thor shares his Poptarts with, so that’s a pretty good reason. “We can reflect all we want once you’re in bed alright?”

“Do you vow to not leave again?” Thor looks at him, eyes glistens. Jesus. Phil blinks.

“I can’t actually promise not to die you know, I’m only human, despite popular belief”

“Then I shall endeavour to protect you with all my strength. It would pain me deeply to lose such a dear friend. You are family to me. ” Oh. Phil has always cared for the Avengers, and even before that, for Natasha and Clint; and after 2 years of living together, he does consider them all friends, even Tony. It only occurs to him now that they may consider him as something more that the suit who lives in the floor below all their floors and brings paperwork and missions around. He's in a bit of a shock, which is completely not why it takes him a few seconds to realize that Thor is patting him gently on the head. 

They finally make it to Thor’s hotel room. The warrior prince is lying down on his back in bed, one arm resting on his chest and the other dangling down the side of the bed near Phil. “Good night, Thor” Phil says with a quirk of his mouth before he turns around to leave, but the dangling hand has a gentle but firm grip on his wrist now and is pulling him to bed. 

“I cannot protect you, dear Son of Coul, if you are not with me” Thor declares, eyes wide open now. Jesus. This is what his life has come to. “Come and rest, I will watch over you.” Phil wants the ground to swallow him up. At least then this party could be over due to the earth swallowing people up and the Avengers having to collect or accumulate or something. Assemble, he meant assemble. Phil should not have tried that purple concoction Clint had handed him. 

He sighs, defeated, and agrees to Thor if he’ll let of the wrist. He pulls off his belt, shrugs out of his jacket, tie and button-up, then folds everything up, leaving it on the nearby coffee table, and then sitting down on the side of the bed to take off his shoes and socks. Then slacks. He returns to bed, where Thor has been eyeing him the entire time (And somehow, it doesn't even seem creepy at all when it's Thor doing it), and climbs into bed in boxer briefs and an undershirt. Thor scoots over to give him some space.

“This is for your protection, Phil” Thor explains as he turns to his side and places an arm gingerly around his waist. 

“ _Of course_ it is.” 

The next morning when Phil wakes up, he almost suffocates due to the pressure of 120 kilograms of thunder god on his chest followed by a thousand apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is how I picture Thor drunk on Earth... he wouldn't be so careful on Asgard, in my opinion XD Thanks for reading!


	6. Clint Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil is a bit speechless at the moment. But he's on drugs, it isn't his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Lynn for betaing:D Here's the last of it:D

#  \+ 1 Clint Barton 

Agents Barton and Coulson have slept together a hundred different times. In safe houses on missions, or while the other was keeping watch, or when one (read: usually Barton) of them found themselves stuck in the infirmary. Barton and Phil have spent nights wound around each other in a single sleeping bag in Yellowknife, or on bunk beds in New Mexico. Coulson has watched Barton walk into a safe house, soaking wet, taken off his tactical suit and held him naked against his chest under the covers until the shivering stopped. Coulson has spent straight 56 hours in various states of consciousness waiting for Barton to wake up in infirmary after yet another vertical drop off of a building. 

Phil has never been in bed with Clint and he’s glad for it because there are only so many things that can be compartmentalized. Phil and Clint have never fallen asleep in the same room because that’s not the sort of relationship they have ever had. On a mission, you’re an agent even if you fall asleep, because at any seconds notice, you need to be on the go. After a while, this ends up being the case on or off the job, which ends up being a major problem for psych because they keep getting insomniac patients. Agents who just can't sleep because every little thing wakes them up. Barton won’t approach the psych wing unless it’s the thing that’s stopping him from returning to active duty, so obviously, Phil knows he’s never asked psych for help with insomnia. 

Phil also knows that there are only two places in the world where Barton can finally sleep peacefully. The first is up in the air vents in SHIELD (and after a year, the Avengers’ tower); somewhere no one else could reach or find him. Phil only knows this because Barton once forgot to switch his phone to silent only to have it go off and blast Beyonce from somewhere high up above Nick’s office. While he was in an emergency meeting. At 2 am. Phil isn’t sure his left ear has completely healed from that particular dressing-down from the Director. 

The second place is in bed with one Natasha Romanoff. Agent Barton will be awake at the sound of wind blowing outside his window but Clint won’t stir when he’s in bed with Natasha even when she moves or talks. It’s not that he’s vulnerable; it’s just that he knows he’s safe and secure with Natasha, and if something were really the matter, she’d alert him somehow anyway. Phil knows this because he is and always will be Clint Barton's handler, it's his job to know these thing. Also, because of that one time with Bruce. No but really, he’s never stalked Clint. He actively avoids stalking Clint, no matter what Jasper says.) It’s just something he notices, because when it comes to Clint Barton, Phil’s brain has this uncanny way of storing every single detail with minute precision. That isn’t stalking. It’s called being a secret agent. He has a badge, you know. 

Clint never falls asleep during team movie night, he might doze, but Phil has seen his eyes twitch at every tiny movement. 

Clint only sleeps without worry if it’s in a secure location within the ventilation systems, or in bed with Natasha. Phil thinks he’s ok with that. 

(He isn’t, not really)

It would be particularly childish of him to be jealous. Barton is his asset; Clint is his friend. If Clint doesn’t feel safe enough around Phil to fall asleep near him, that’s totally fine. Phil just wants Clint to get some sleep. He’s not expecting this situation to change or anything, he can totally live with it. 

Except for the part when it’s 1 am, and Phil and Natasha have just returned home to the Avengers tower from a three month long, two-man mission to Burma that was particularly unexciting. Phil’s wobbles rather than walks into his room, having self-checked himself out of medical (it was just a bullet to the shoulder, again: Burma was boring), but high on pain meds, switched on the lights and dumped his go bag onto the floor; to find a bleary eyed Clint Barton sitting up on his bed, clad in a pair of Iron Man boxers and staring at Phil with a look of shock, confusion, and oh, is that embarrassment? 

He blames the pain medication for not having noticed him earlier. And also, for the speechlessness. 

“Fuck.” Phil’s never heard Clint’s’ voice to be so tremulous before. “Sorry, boss. I, uh...” Clint starts to scramble out of bed. “I just. I couldn’t sleep and...” 

“It’s ok; you’re welcome in my bed,” oh damn the damned meds. “No, I meant…” Phil is tired ok? He just wants to sleep but his bed is all warm from Clint which isn’t something that he ever expected, except having Clint in his bed and not being able to touch and kiss him are not going to go well together. Oh. He’s going to need a new plan of action because denial just got smashed by the equivalent of a mental Hulk. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Phil can hear Jasper laughing at him. 

“Phil? You with me?” Clint is walking towards him, with an expression on his face that Phil can’t place. “What did you do?” Then those gorgeous kaleidoscope eyes see the bandages wrapped around his shoulder, peeking out from underneath the jacked draped over him, and colour just drains from Clint’s face. “My God, stop doing this to me”

Phil’s not really sure what’s happening so he lets Clint gently push him towards en-suite bathroom, and listens when Clint closes the lid on the toilet seat and tells him in a curt voice to sit the hell down. He takes the jacket and hangs it up. The tie, shirt and undershirt were long done for, and are probably somewhere in a garbage bin in medical. Clint finds a fresh washcloth in the linen closet in the corner and wets it, then gently begins washing the area around the bandage, carefully working around the support brace. His hand shakes a little when it nears the old wound left by Loki, but continues to wash his chest and other arm. He’s then rinsing out the washcloth and scrubbing Phil’s fingers thoroughly. There’s a bit of blood, but it’s mostly that horrid orange staining Betadine. Clint stands up; moves over to his side and then scrubs down his back as well, the washcloth gloriously warm and comforting. 

Phil keeps trying to clear his head, but Clint being so close really isn’t helping. Then there are the twenty different scenarios running through his head for what Clint was doing in his bed in the first place. Maybe Bruce hulked out in Clint’s wing of the tower again. Or maybe Tony dared him to. Maybe he likes Phil’s bed; it has memory foam after all. Then all of a sudden his brains freezes because Clint is right in front of him, close enough that Phil could count his eyelashes. Clint is wiping his face with baby wipes (thank you, baby sister and her nieces for that genius idea), careful around his eyes and then down to his throat and the need to kiss Clint is so strong that Phil knows he’s a goner. He’s not going to need any future plans to hide this situation because that’s it, folks. It’s over. His right hand, the one attached to his healthy shoulder comes up and cradles Clint’s’ face, who looks at him again with that expression and Phil says, “I’m so sorry, I have to do this, I can’t stop” and then kisses Clint on the chin. 

Well, that’s not exactly what he was aiming for, but seriously, he was on a morphine Perfusor less than half an hour ago; he's not at fault here. And frankly, Clint has a gorgeous chin, just like the rest of him. Then Clint starts laughing and Phil realizes that he may have been speaking those thoughts out loud. Phil is mortified. He opens his mouth to say something, _anything_ ; when he finds those blessed lips finally against his own. Phil just wants to stay here in the bathroom, Clint’s lips against his own, soft against dry ones. He want to stay where Clint’s fingers are against his chest and in his hair, against his scalp, but after a while his lips feel heavy and his eyes ever heavier and he wants to sleep with Clint beside him, that’s all he's ever wanted, ever forced himself not to think about. All he's ever dreamed of in the last 5 years. 

His eyes are closed, but he can feel Clint’s’ smile against his mouth, and he’s starting to fade with that warm around him when Clint pulls away, “Wake up, Phil, come on, let’s get you to bed” But it so nice and warm here and Clint is here and Phil is suddenly afraid that if they leave the bathroom, Clint will leave, because Natasha’s back and Clint only sleeps well with another person if that person is Natasha and- “I always had the best naps in the vents above your office, you know”.

Phil forces him eyes to open and all of a sudden he’s staring at Clint in confusion. 

Clint’s blushing now and looking downwards, but there’s a smile on his face. “God, you’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up tomorrow morning” He takes a deep breath, and then, “I wanted to sleep here for so long... but I was just... I didn't want you to kick me out”

Phil wants to say, of course he wouldn’t kick him out, why would he; he’s never kicked out Clint from his office, or from sneaking into his apartment when Phil was cooking. Why would he do that now? But his tongue is glued to his mouth and he’s oh so tired so he just leans forward into Clint’s’ bare chest, and manages to croak out, “Never”

Clint’s quiet for a long time and Phil dozes on his chest. It isn’t that comfortable a position for either of them, Phil thinks. But Phil just can’t find the energy to move anymore. Then the warmth is gone, but Clint pulls his one good arm over his shoulders and pulls him up into a standing position. “Come on, help me out here. I need you to just hold on to that sink so I can pull this belt off of you, and those slacks ok?” Phil nods and then waits as Clint unbuckles his belt, unbuttons and unzips his slacks and pulls them down. “You know, I've had fantasies of being on my knees in front of you, but this wasn’t ever how I imagined it”

Phil’s’ knees wobble. This is just unfair now. Clint chuckles, then straightens. “I’m sorry, you know me... can’t help it” But now those lips are within touching distance so Phil tries again and misses, but this time he gets Clint’s’ magnificent cheek for but a second before Clint pushes him back. “Ok. Here’s the deal. No more kissing, not until you’re in bed. Deal?” 

Phil nods and lets himself finally be led to bed, the bed that’s starting to smell like Clint, and that should mean something but he’s just so tired. After a few minutes of fussing and turning and careful placing of pillows so his shoulder is set correctly, and Phil’s lying on his back, Clint suddenly seems to shy away, covering him in the blankets but not in bed himself. But Phil doesn’t want to hear it, so he just says, “Come to bed, Clint”. So he does. 

In the morning, Phil wakes up and finds himself at once comparing the archer with an octopus. Clint is on his side, digging his left leg under Phil’s right one, and his right one in between Phil’s legs. One arm is stretched out over Phil’s belly, while the other hand has its’ fingers threaded into his own. 

Phil’s shoulder aches and he should probably get his meds but he just stays there for the moment, head twisted towards Clint’s’ face, which is somehow snuggled half under his healthy shoulder. He gently squeezes Clint’s hand with his own, but there is no response. Clint is fast asleep. 

The meds can wait. Phil smiles and goes back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I actually wrote something this long! Ok, I know it's not a lot but I'm really proud of myself for having written the whole thing... I abandon stories far too easily.... I hope you liked it.... thank you all for reading, commenting, and generally making my day:D

**Author's Note:**

> 8000+ words what is my life even. Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
